


How Long Is Forever

by overthinkingaddict11



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Minor Hirai Momo/Myoui Mina
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24504838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overthinkingaddict11/pseuds/overthinkingaddict11
Summary: This isn’t a love story because Momo grew up learning from all the romance movies that all love story has a happy ending. But if it isn’t a love story, why did Momo’s heart aches so much whenever she hears a specific name.
Relationships: Hirai Momo/Minatozaki Sana, Im Nayeon/Myoui Mina
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. Minatozaki Sana

**Author's Note:**

> There aren't enough Samo long au so here we are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls go watch More n More, this can wait

  
“The mystery of this world is in the visible, not the invisible.” – Oscar Wilde

When Hirai Momo stepped one foot into SM High, a private high school in the U.S., she knew she was in deep trouble. Thinking about it now, she cannot really recall what happened in the admission office. It was rather a blur. The lady took one look at Momo and shrugged her shoulder despite her parents explaining that Momo does not speak any English. “She’ll be fine.”

Momo remembered she was late to the first class. Of course, she got lost. When Momo was busy looking at a printed schedule, she felt herself making a contact with a person, perhaps. Before she knew, she felt herself instead on landing face-down on the ground, a soft surface was under instead. “Ah, sorry…” That was the only thing that Momo could think of. She pushed herself up, lifting the weight from the person below with her head still hung low, avoiding eye contact as she really did not want to have a conversation.

  
“Ope sorry, you’re okay?” The high-pitch, sprightly voice in contrast to Momo’s quiet voice grabbed Momo’s attention.

  
There are many times that Momo mentally noted as a turning point in her life. First time she won a dance competition, getting recruited by the junior national dance team, injuring her right knee, getting off the plan from Kyoto to a small town in Iowa in the U.S. last week, and seeing this breath taking young lady in front of her. In fact, the captivation was hella strong that Momo froze. (Momo does freeze a lot.) It was not like she could understand what the girl was saying anyway. Momo, embarrassed by her intrusive stare, cleared her throat and displayed a best apologetic smile that she could. The other girl grinned at Momo so brightly that she suddenly remembered she had to go to class still.

  
“I’m trying to find this room. Um, 20…3…” Momo scratching the back of her head, asked shyly with a fair amount of difficulty. Momo only had a quick beginning class in English since her parents one day suddenly announced that they were going to move to the U.S., leaving Momo almost no time to react, prepare, and say good-bye to the life she had been knowing all her life.

  
“Ah, we’re going to the same place then. This way.” The other girl took one look at Momo’s schedule, raised an eye brown, and gestured Momo to follow her. Momo swears she saw her eyes twinkled.

  
“Hey sorry, my English is not... um... good. My name is Momo.”

  
“Daijoubu. Watashiwa Sana desu. Dozo yoroshiku” (It’s ok. I’m Sana. Nice meeting you) " _Hm, so Sana is the name, but wait… she’s Japanese."_

  
“Eh?” Momo gasped, stopped her track, her eyeballs almost jumped out. And Sana just giggled.

  
“Come on, we’re gonna be late.” Sana pretended to look at her imaginary watch on the wrist. She proceeded to grab Momo’s wrist and drag her to the stairs. Momo swore Sana was having way too much fun teasing her.

  
\---

  
Momo tried. She tried and tried and tried and there was no way that she could catch up with her classmates. Considering her lack of interest in school since the day she was admitted into the dance academy back in Japan, Momo did not think going to school in a completely different language was a good idea. Not to mention the lack of help from the school itself as they did not have program or experience with students like Momo. In another word, most of students who went here were either gifted native U.S. citizens or very gifted international students. Nonetheless, her parents eventually noticed her struggles and decided that she needed to transfer to a public school with ELL program. ELL program is a program designed for non-native English speaker.

  
Momo left SM High with no regrets. She did not really say goodbye to Sana. Not that they were such friends. Despite being in the same class, Sana would greet Momo in the morning when she passed Momo’s locker, in the hallway between classes, or at lunch when Momo was trying to read the textbook for the class after lunch. Sana was popular. Momo always saw her with a group of people and they always laughed at something, not that Momo could understand or pay that much attention while she was trying to google some vocabs in the daily reading.

  
It would be a lie if Momo say she could not make friends. Her look attracted a couple of people, who came and started conversations with her. (Momo isn't a fan of small talks.) Then, those conversations would end shortly just because Momo did not have enough vocabs to expand to them further or she started dosing off in her mind. Momo has never associated herself with being good looking. Back in Japan, while her friends started dating, becoming multithousands followers Intagramers, Momo spent hours in the practice room.

  
\---

  
Momo was transferred to JYP High. A school that her parents were hesitated to have her there just because it was known to be “ghetto.” Momo did not really comprehend “ghetto” or really care if she had to be honest. At first, things were challenging but at least she had a better support system. She was provided with mentors and started hanging out with people who shared similar obstacles. In one of those ELL classes, she met Im Nayeon, a Korean upper classman. Nayeon was a great friend, who always tried to start a "fight" with Momo, arguing over some random topics just for Momo to brush them off as _she doesn’t have time for this_ but Nayeon also helped Momo adapting to a new environment.

  
During her first year at JYP, Momo’s days filled with school, homework, dance, and repeat. Besides Nayeon, she did not have any other friend. It was not like she had time to think about making friends anyway. And due to the time difference, she stopped talking to her friends back home. In Momo’s mind at the time, there were only trying to get good grades and trying to get good grades.

Momo worked hard, maybe a little bit too hard, she really hated being behind perhaps due to the memory from her short period at SM. In fact, it paid off. Her English improved drastically, and she soon finished her ELL program. Momo did not realize she could be good at school. Not only that now she could communicate adequately, but to everyone’s surprise and mostly Momo’s, she was selected to be in the Honor program. Momo scrolled down the list and found Nayeon’s name as well. She could not help but cracked a chuckle at how excited the latter would be when she found out.

The Honor students in JYP High, unlike regular students, they have separate classes from other students with higher level contents. Each grade has 50 top students, who are constantly fighting for the Valedictorian spot. Most of these students came from wealthy or politically influential or both families. This is where Momo’s life became a mess.

  
Besides the fact that Momo had almost zero time in her daily routine to really do anything else since how much time consuming her assignments are now, Momo also got a part-time job at a sushi restaurant that occupied her entire weekend. She did not know why she decided to get the job, Momo did not really need money. Her family was fairly comfortable, and it was not like she had time to spend her money anyway. And her first semester of her second year was gone by in a blink. She remained in the race for the number one of the class, ranking at 9th at the end of the semester.

\---

  
“Momo, why don’t you join the dance team at school.” One time, Momo and Nayeon were having a break during PE, Nayeon suddenly suggested.

  
“Huh, why?” Momo startled just because she never mentioned dancing with Nayeon before.

  
“Aren’t you like really good, like professionally good. I saw you danced.”

“Don’t lie. When?” Momo let out a breathy laugh.

  
“It doesn’t matter. If you do, then I’ll join you.”

  
“Fine. Let’s do it then.” Momo shrugged her shoulders, but she internally thanked Nayeon. She was too shy to go to try-out last year by herself. If it wasn’t for Nayeon, Momo would probably never ever attend tryout for JYP dance team.

  
With all due respect, if Momo can travel back in time, she would not agree to this. It was not Nayeon’s fault, but Momo sometimes still blames her for coming up with the idea. Momo’s biggest regret, well, the first regret of a chain of biggest regrets, is to walk into the gym to try out for the dance team that day. It was not because there was a lot of people. Momo had been to bigger competitions before.

Momo looked over to Nayeon, and squeezed her hand in an attempt to cheer her up as the latter's face was slowly losing color.

Of course, Momo did well, too well indeed. The coach could not hide an overjoyed grin, and everyone was so taken back that they could not contain their gasp after Momo’s performance. In between the applause, someone even whistled. All Momo did was took a bow, walked to her seat, fist bumped Nayeon, crossed her legs and started watching the next audition. And maybe she couldn’t stop her lips from curving up into a smirk. But soon that smirk became stiffen as the coach announced the next person to come forward.

  
“Minatozaki Sana.”

Momo knows she always spaces out, but at that moment after Sana’s name was announced and Sana’s stunning face appeared in Momo’s field of vision, she spaced out **spaced out**. Momo could not recall Sana’s performance, which is a shame indeed because Nayeon literally described it as one of the most _breathtakingly stunning_ performance that she had ever seen in her entire 17 years of life, just to noted right after that Momo was better by 0.001 percent because Momo is Momo, and no one can be better than Momo in dancing. Nayeon is not a very consistent person because she immediately changed her mind after Myoui Mina did her, according to Nayeon, a god sent ballet performance.

  
Anyhow, Momo’s mind probably would wander all the way back to her hometown in Kyoto if Sana did not nudge her.

  
“Momo, right? You wanna be my partner for the next performance.”

  
“Eh?”

  
“Come on! We need to come up with something fast, the next section of try out is freestyle random partner dance.” Before Momo could register this new information in her head, her wrist got grabbed and she was startled by the sudden physical contact. Isn’t this feel a bit… familiar?

  
They decided to do Trouble Maker because they both knew how to do the dance pretty well, except none of them had never tried Hyun Seung’s position before.

  
“Well Momo, you should do his part while I am doing Hyuna's. You know, I think you’re way better than I am as a dancer.”

  
“Oh okay.” Momo agreed as she did not expect the whole Sana being at JYP, or dancing with Sana, or Nayeon failing to mention this section of the tryout.

Speaking of Nayeon, after Momo was captured by Sana, she was left without a partner and ended up being partnered with Mina, who also failed to find someone to dance with. Momo shot her an apologetic look but Nayeon was too nervous being around Mina, “ _a most elegant girl in the entire universe_ ,” again, according to Nayeon.

  
Momo watched the dance video on her phone with Sana, trying to visualize herself doing the moves but it was such a difficult mission as Sana was staring at her.

  
“Um, Sana, you don’t have to watch this?”

  
“Not really, I’ve done this dance way too many times. I can dance to this in my sleep.” Momo had nothing to respond, her eyes wandered to Sana’s ankles instead, making a mental note about how small Sana’s ankles are. It was not like Momo was trying to avoid eye contact with Sana, which made her heart jumped and started beating in an abnormal rhythm. In Momo’s defense, small ankles are just one of the good measures for a dancer.

  
“Is it a tattoo?” Momo caught a small drawing of a flower on Sana’s left ankle.

  
“It’s a henna. I’m learning how to do to henna from my friend Chaeyoung.”

  
“It looks cute.”

  
“You think so?” 

  
If there was something worth noting in the situation, it was how talented Momo is. She distractedly watched the video once and perfectly memorized the steps. They only could do one run through before having to go on the stage again. The dance could not challenge Momo, what challenged Momo, though, was to stop getting lost in those chestnut eyes that literally sucked Momo into another world during the chorus. And yes, the eye contact only lasted less than a beat, and Momo, having perfect control of her body, let her brain convinced her that time had stopped and she was staring into Sana’s eyes for god knows how long.

  
Momo was only able to snap out of her thought when she heard a yelp. Her eyes traveled to a shocked and in-pain Sana hugging her own left ankle, where the tiny flower was, looking at Momo with teary eyes.

  
“Hey… you’re okay?”

  
“Momo… you pushed me.” Sana frowned, and for a moment, Momo really did believe she pushed Sana if she did not catch a teasing glint on those “ _well, really is weirdly mesmerically beautiful_ ” eyes, and the fact that Momo was at least 5 ft away.

  
Momo was about to answer when their coach rushed over to Sana, examining her ankle and whispering to them something about them not having to finish the performance as they were both passed the tryout.

To that, Momo found herself helping Sana to the athletic trainer room to get some ice.

“I’m really okay, you know.”

  
“Right.” Momo nodded, loosening her grip on the hem of Sana’s shirt, and wondered why the latter doesn’t let go of her arm around Momo’s shoulder. Sana warm and soft body was being too close, and the only thing that Momo could think about was the sweet and gentle flowery scent with a more profound hint of vanilla surrounding them “ _Hm, Hermes 24 Faubourg._ ”

  
Besides dancing, Momo has another secret passion for perfume, which she hoped no one would discover. Nayeon later scolded her for hiding her collection and proceeded to take a couple of bottles as “ _collateral damage_ ”, whatever did she mean by that.

  
Momo waited for Sana to go get the ice outside of the athletic training room as the latter seemed like she could make it just fine and Momo did not feel like talking to the trainers. She was far away from the definition of a social butterfly, if it had not been mentioned.

  
“You really do dose off quite a lot.” Sana, who now had her ankle wrap with a bulky ice bag, grinned widely at Momo.

  
“We good to go?” Momo didn’t really bother at the comment, instead she lifted her chin, signaling at the ankle.

  
“I suppose.” Sana shrugged.

  
“So what are you doing at JYP?” After a couple of seconds walking silently side by side, Momo remembered the pressing matter, which obviously was not pressing enough since Momo actually forgot due to the chain of eventful events.

  
“If I tell you that it was because of you, would you believe me?” 


	2. Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a mist of this wild time, I hope we're all safe and healthy, in our body and in our mind. #BLM

“At night I dream that you and I are two plants that grew together, roots entwined, and that you know the earth and the rain like my mouth, since we are made of earth and rain.” ― Pablo Neruda

Momo swears she can still recall exactly that moment when Sana grinned so brightly and genuinely at her with all the sincerity in this world years and years later, that she believed she was actually the reason that Sana transfered to JYP High. Momo soon learned that Sana was just teasing her. Nayeon said it was her way of flirting and Momo couldn’t hold back a loud laugh. “ _Nani the heck?_ ”

In fact, Sana transferred due to some drama with her now ex-best friend over this one girl. Momo remembered Nayeon later warned her about Sana when they started getting suspiciously close to each other.

It was natural though, getting close to Sana. As if there was an invisible magnet that drawn Momo into Sana. They talked about literally everything and anything. They shared the same thoughts on controversial matters, they loved the same food, they enjoyed the same TV shows. As if they were… soulmates. Well, Momo didn’t and still don’t believe in soulmates. She doesn’t think she will either. But Sana was somehow the closest definition of a soulmate to Momo.

\---

After two weeks of choreographing and practicing, here came the competition season, which means they have to go to a studio for extra dance sessions after school. One day, Momo was walking to the studio from school that someone unsubtly honked at her. Momo had seen this in a movie somewhere before - the whole a car stopped at the side, Sana deliberately rolled down the car window, intentionally pushed her sunglasses down, winked at Momo. “Wanna go for a ride, bae?”

Momo wished she did face palm herself at how corny and ridiculous the scene was. But Momo was Momo, and all she said was “Sure” and grinned at Sana appreciatedly. And pretended that she did not hear Sana calling her _bae_.

“Ignore the mess on my car. It used to be clean until my cousin took it.” Sana pushed her sunglasses back up and the sun was hitting her side profile just right and impeccable. Momo, again, felt like she was still in a movie scene. She was stunned enough that she failed to reply to Sana.

“Momo, are you gonna get a license?” Being used with Momo’s distraction issue, Sana changed the topic. This time turned to Momo, hoping that she could get some attention.

“I’ve been trying to. It wasn’t that easy.”

“I can teach you, hehe.”

“Oh hell no, you’re a terrible driver.” Momo, now fully caught on with the conversation, dramatically shook her head. On another side, Sana, acted like she hurt, grabbing her chest and everything. Momo swore Sana should be the last person to major in acting. And to emphasize what Momo had just said, Sana took a turned without signaling, gaining an angry honk from a person behind.

“Did I ever tell you that I hate your smirk.” Sana glared at Momo with a hidden soft smile, and Momo deepened her annoying smirk.

\---

Being on the dance team had a perk. Momo started gaining popularity at JYP High as people started noticing how witty and charming Momo was, the more they interacted with Momo. She had people talking to her in classes, gave her handshakes in between classes, voted for her to be on the student council and invited her to parties. Well, most of those were hosted by Ms. Mega-popular, Minatozaki Sana. Momo even heard that Sana had a fan club consisted of students from both genders, which was nothing surprising. And as an enthusiastic drinker since her days back in Japan, Momo decided that she would spend her Fridays at Sana’s place.

The parties were fine, Momo usually came over after doing her homework to help Sana set up, just to leave when everyone was shitfaced and started playing truth or dare or strip poker or never have I ever. Momo, being a private person, did not feel like sharing juicy facts about her sex experience or having all those curious and horny teenagers’ eyes on her bra. “ _Fuck that_.”

Momo liked to keep her social circle small though. Eventually, students at JYP could not help but notice Momo, Sana, Nayeon, and Mina inseparable group of friends. First, Nayeon and Sana were hella loud. They always laughed like their lungs were about to burst. It was sometimes obnoxious. But Momo couldn’t judge, because she herself was also obnoxious, though it was not that obvious to others.

Second, they were one of the prettiest ones in this hierarchy called JYP High. High school, in Momo’s opinion, was a small-scale society. The students, who were similar to her and her friends, who were good-looking, in the Honor Program, wealthy, athletic, influential, were at the top. And Momo was not (or was) exaggerating or bragging. It was how it was.

They were the same people who got the teachers’ and administrators’ favor, who got all the random awards that the school came up with, who were chosen as Homecoming and Prom Kings and Queens, who dominated the sport teams, theaters, student council, and many more extracurricular activities, who allowed themselves to be petty and dramatic and treated everyone like shit. Maybe it was the hormones, who knows.

That was why most of the people on Momo’s varsity dance team were in the same classes with her. Meaning she had to interact with the same people from 7 in the morning to 9 at night. An introverted Momo sometimes was exhausted. On the bright side, perhaps, she was as sure and confident at herself as she ever could. Momo became more talkative and overstepping with her opinions that she self-proclaimed they mattered so much.

Well... She did become an overachiever, though, in her parents’ eyes. She soon became the dance's team captain, class vice president, president of the science club, student of the year etc.… It felt like she was _the shit_ , and she got the student body in her palm that she could do whatever her heart desired. Momo sure was capable and intelligent, and at every award ceremony her parents looked so damn proud it made her heart swollen.

Did that really justify her to look down on people, which was one of the activities that Momo and her friends were doing over lunch breaks or at those parties, though? Perhaps not. She was right to call herself obnoxious.

The letters and gifts on Valentine’s Day that she got did not really help the situation, now that Momo thinks about it. There was something about these people who she called “ _friends_ ” in high school that was off, like the vibe was off. And she could not put her finger on what wasn’t right at the time.

Her confidence in herself prompted her to plan on asking Myoui Mina out because Mina was fucking Mina, the most wanted girl at JYP High. Although Nayeon self-claimed that spot, based on her own number of Instagram followers. Nayeon sure was pretty, “ _okay maybe prettier than Momo’s friends in Japan who were soon became celebrities and models_ ”, and Ms. Im never held back on generously and freely giving out that charming smile of her at everyone and every occasion that she could.

But Mina’s gentility and elegance were rare and pure and sophisticated and classy and, um, so perfect that Momo thought there wasn’t anyone that could be more ideal to date than Mina. And did Momo mention the exiguity of God’s work when God delicately placed those moles that Momo felt a tug in her heart every time they flashed past her vision. The only reason that caused Momo’s hesitation was her concern of losing focus in school. Or maybe, subconsciously, she did not want to lose her popularity or her “fans”.

How egocentric Momo was because as close as she was with Nayeon and Mina, Momo failed to notice the way Nayeon’s eyes beamed dazzlingly whenever Mina came into her line of sight, or the way Nayeon laughed so genuinely and unforcefully at a couple of few times Mina, to everyone’s surprise, ridiculed some boys making a fool of themselves trying to get their friend group's attention. 

\---

In a mist of all of her blossoming sophomore year, one Tuesday evening, after practice, when Momo was preparing to leave the dance studio, she saw Sana and Jihyo, another team member and the class president, were whispering in the corner.

Sana, in contrast to Momo, was such a social butterfly. Momo wouldn’t be surprised if Sana knew the entire school, including the regular students, who, in Momo’s definition, wanted nothing to do with JYP High to care about the school’s events or the students on “ _the top_ ” like Momo. Because Jihyo was facing away, Momo could only detect Sana’ seriousness on her face. Momo had to admit, Sana could not hide her emotions very well and tended to over-exaggerate her expressions. It was probably some high school drama that Momo always kept herself away from.

At that very moment, Sana’s eyes caught Momo’s. Momo sometimes wondered if Sana really understand the power that her eyes and her smile held because, damn, Momo never seemed to be able to escape the hypnotizing stare that could make you forget who you are. And every time Sana looked at Momo like _that_ , her feet voluntarily started moving toward Sana on their own as if they were under some spells. It was drowning and it was suffocating, but Momo couldn’t help herself from searching for more and more and more [and more](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mH0_XpSHkZo)

“What’s up.” And before Momo knew, she was in front of Sana and Jihyo, smiling dorkily as she just found out that it was one of her “ _charming points_ ”, according to Im Nayeon.

“Hey Momo, care to come over and bake some cookies with us?” Who was Momo to say no to those puppy eyes and the tilting of Sana head and the perfect curve of her lips?

Whilst Sana and Jihyo were baking the cookies, Momo was playing a game on her phone that she decided to download to impress Mina. They continued with their convo over Jihyo’s bestfriend, Yoo Jeongyeon, another upper classman. Through those bits and pieces of the conversation, Momo learned that it was about Jeongyeon’s crush. “ _Watch she moves on to some other girl in two days_.”

In between their laughters, Momo’s mind wandered to Jeongyeon, whose charms and kindness captured every single JYP High’s heart, including Momo. Don’t get Momo wrong, she was ridiculously nice and dependable. It was hard to find a bad thing to say about Jeongyeon. Momo vividly remembered the time Jeongyeon took care of her when she was clinging to Sana’s toilet like her life depends on it, maybe it was. Because she embarrassingly recalled herself puking her guts off that her face was burning and her pupils almost exploded. To that, Momo let out a breathy chuckle.

“It seems like it was going to rain. I should get going soon” Jihyo’s voice dragged Momo back to Sana’s kitchen and the interestingly looking cookies that they just took out of the oven. Her eyes dragged to the glass that surrounded the entire Minatozaki’s property, where the other side of it displayed a dark, stormy. and angry sky. It, the sky, was somewhat similar to the marble counter in front of Momo.

Being in the Midwest means one thing, you have to put up with the moody and unpredictable weather. To prove the point, the siren went off to announce that the tornado was coming. Momo gently frowned; her social energy had run out and she would rather be in her room, laying on her comfy bed, and perhaps take a nap to the sound of heavy rain outside. To Momo’s discontent, it seemed too late. It would take her parents 20 minutes to come pick her up from their house, and in this weather she doubted that they would leave the house anytime soon.

Tornado was a common feature in this small daunting town, the town where everything closed and the street is eerily empty at 8pm, except the diner on sixth street and a McDonald’s a block from JYP High. Momo despised this town when she first got here. It was nothing like where she came from, where she could go get ramen at 3am after a night of heavy drinking, or spent her entire evening after school at some coffee shops playing cards with her friends. If it wasn’t because of her friends and the people that she associated with now, Momo would probably move away to a bigger city like Chicago (only 4 hours away) or even better, move back to Kyoto. It wasn’t like that thought hadn’t crossed her mind at least three times every single day. Ah well, what Momo was trying to say was that people don’t go to the basement to hide for some tornado in Iowa.

“See you, Momo.” Momo failed to stop a small startle at Jihyo’s voice, which was somewhat swallowed by the sound of the trees banging on the glass and the car engine as Jihyo just started it. Momo weakly waved at Jihyo as the latter hurriedly walked out of the door, hoping to make it home before the tornado hit. That left Momo and Sana in the spacious and flamboyant kitchen of the Minatozaki.

“My parents should be back soon. Wanna go to my room instead?” Sana looked at the Apple Watch on her wrist, scrolling through some messages on the screen. Momo nodded and smoothly jumped of the tall kitchen chair. And Momo didn’t forget to grab a cookie on the way.

“Hm this is not bad.” Momo even gave Sana a thumbs up as they walking up the stairs.

“Yea? It was peach and cinnamon. I saw they made it on a baking show last night.” Momo silently hummed while her mind jumped to another dimension all thanks to Sana’s cute laugh. Well cute would be an understatement because if Momo had to be honest, this signature laugh with so much sincerity and so much overflowing joy over a smallest thing of Sana was a deadshot for Momo.

It knocked Momo of her feet. It was captivating and contagious. And Momo felt herself drowning in an unexplainable happiness that made her brain short circuited and her heart fluttered like the butterflies from somewhere in a mush of molecules that made up her inside had just been released. And Momo wondered if she was sick because she never felt like this around Sana. She even unconsciously touched her forehead to check if she was running a fever because it was flu season and who knows, maybe the virus did some weird chemically alteration to the neurotransmitters in her brain.

A soft skin was suddenly pressed against her forehead, and her eyes were seized by a pair of crystal hazelnut eyes, and her hand was replaced by a foreign pressure. “ _Damn it_.” Of course, Sana, who took every opportunity for intimate physical contact would check Momo’s temperature with her forehead instead of the back of her hand.

And if the butterflies were released before, they were now painfully and panickedly stirring Momo’s internal organs perhaps because her heart pumped faster and her veins and arteries sharply constricted and her temperature was uncontrollably rising. Momo noted her hands suddenly went cold and she was surely blushing as Sana made a comment about how warm Momo was.

“Haha, maybe I caught a cold.” Momo swallowed a lump in her throat and dryly chuckled to hide the chaos of her body’s internal condition.

“Momo, you wanna know what did I and Jihyo talk about back at the studio?” Sana settled on the floor with her back against the bed and faced the wide glass in front of her with the view to the back of the neighborhood and to the mountains behind her house. In which Momo sat down beside Sana, her hand brushed against the blonde's. And Momo sleepily looked out the window, watching the destructive yet beautiful tornado outside as Sana went on and on about her story with that similar-to-before serious look on her face.

Obviously, Momo couldn’t care less about other people’s tea, even if it involved Sana. Otherwise, Momo wouldn’t dose off after Sana’s second sentence. The air was fresh and earthly, and the breeze was cool and crisp. And Momo could not help her heavy eye lids closing off her vision, allowing her other senses overpowering her consciousness. And just like that, Momo let her mind wander with a slight awareness that Sana, the closest definition of her soulmate, was here right next to her, telling her about some high school drama with the soothing sound of rain in the background.

In a mist of this nature’s work of art, there were Sana’s sweet voice, Sana’s Hermes 24 Faubourg perfume, Sana’s radiating but comforting warmness, Sana’s soft skin against Momo’s knee. And Momo treasured that moment. And Momo could not hold the corners of her mouth from drawing a soft smile.

Years and years later, Momo still can close her eyes and let her mind does its magical thing, vividly reliving this very Tuesday evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will stay on the DL for now but a comment will definitely be appreciated and give me some motivation to write :)


	3. Spicy Sauce

“I do not use the word home lightly. So when I sigh into the crook of your neck, believe that your spine is a timber frame, your kiss is a welcome mat, and your enveloping arms are my front door.” – Unknown

Momo swirls a small elegantly designed glass, emerging into the sight of the amber liquid twirling around the oval ice cube. Her eyes spark softly under the warm yellow light of _Bbosong’s_ , her go-to hidden bar in Chicago. “You know, Nayeon, I hate to admit that you were right, but you were right.”

“You told me to not bring it up whenever we hangout, yet here we are.” Nayeon chuckles, side-eyeing Momo, making a signal at the bartender as she finishes her second amaretto sour.

“You told me you would stop putting those unhealthy, sugary drinks in your system, yet here we are.”

\---

Somewhere at the beginning of Momo’s third year in high school, one afterschool, as Momo was grabbing her gym bag to head over to the dance studio, a tap on her shoulder had her stopped between her tracks.

“Momo, there is something that I feel like you should know.” Nayeon, with all of her best attempts to look as deliberate as she could be, forcefully exhaled and began to reveal to Momo an anecdote, actually, it was more like a gossip. An anecdote that Momo already heard once. An anecdote that Sana was already telling her during that stormy Tuesday evening.

Sana used to have a best friend from SM High, Chloe or whatever. During that time, Sana was going out with a girl. Her name was either Emily or Emma, Momo could not recall exactly. It’s funny how Momo could memorize every element on the periodic table, or to be more applicable, every entree on the menu of the diner on sixth street. But five seconds after someone introduced themselves to her, their names were long forgotten, like that bit of information couldn’t even reach the surface of her brain.

To make things short and sweet, Chloe was also dating some other girl, to which Momo wouldn’t even try to name at this point. And at one of those parties, Sana managed to commit _an activity involving sucking face_ , Nayeon’s exact words, with Chloe’s girlfriend. Apparently, that broke Chloe. Chloe was so broken, rumors had that she had to put schooling on hold as her therapist suggested. Momo couldn’t understand why, at least at that time.

“White people man…” Momo lowered her voice, let out a heavy sign with hidden mockery, leaning on the mental locker.

Whatever Sana did was bad and all, doing such thing to your best friend, but it wasn’t the main problem. Since Emily or Emma or [insert random popular name] was well-known and a _really sweet girl, who was vegan and wouldn’t hurt a fly_. Nayeon dragged her voice to emphasize on the _vegan_ part and Momo couldn’t hold back a low laugh. Everyone at SM High essentially got mad at Sana and did all they could to express their resentment toward her. Sana had to transfer to JYP High because she wasn’t going to waste time with _dumbass bitches_. This remark had Momo rolling on the floor.

“You’re telling me this because…? Momo unintentionally raised her voice at the end, still catching her breath after being literally wretched with laughter. Despite her lips still widely stretched out, haven’t recovered from its original position, one of her eyebrows arched up challengingly at Nayeon.

“I don’t know. Just for your information, dude, judging on the way you look at Sana lately.” Nayeon shrugged her shoulders, smiling distractedly at a student walking by them in the busy hall way.

“What about the way I look at Sana?” Momo wrinkled her nose with hidden contempt.

“You tell me.” Nayeon scoffed.

To that, Momo shoved some textbooks into her backpack, carelessly took her gym back on the other hand, grabbed Nayeon’s heavy backpack that she placed on the floor at Momo’s feet, and turned her head at the latter with a set smile. “Come on unnie, Satang is waiting for us outside already. We shouldn’t be late to practice again.”

And Nayeon felt her heart dropped a beat and a weird bitter taste in her mouth as if she could foresee something wasn’t going to be right. And she was right to be concerned because Momo disregarded the gossip in a blink because _“who cares, Satang seems perfectly fine and everything seems perfectly fine and a small misunderstanding doesn’t define anyone, especially Minatozaki.”_ Momo never met someone who would disagree on Sana’s kindness and naturally nice characteristic. 

“Momoring, you’re literally the team captain.”

“Exactly.”

\---

Traveling back to the second half of Momo’s sophomore year, after the Tuesday evening at the Minatozaki’s place, Momo unknowingly began to notice Sana’s unnecessarily surreptitious behaviors. Maybe she was being extra touchiness. Sure, Sana was touchy. She loved skinship with everyone. It fueled her energy to survive the intense busy school day. But in compare to other people, it was a different kind of touchiness, the way Sana did it, in which Momo couldn’t put into words to describe, and Momo was no language expert.

Was Momo this oblivious before though? She didn’t recall Sana treating her anything more than just a friend until a couple days ago. These days, Sana always hugged Momo somewhat lovingly and tightly that it seldom hurt her shoulder blades every single time they cross path in between third and fourth period, as if they didn’t see each other two hours ago at Momo’s locker before school. Or Sana would walk with Momo to her biology class after lunch even though her writing class was on the opposite side of the building. Or Sana might or might not smiled at Momo with some additional coy suggestive color. Or Sana kept pecking on Momo’s cheeks to the point that Momo wonder was it their only purpose for Sana’s sheer kisses. Or Sana would constantly call Momo _bae_ or saved her name as Momoring the _bae_ in her phone. And it would be a lie if Momo said she did not enjoy this extra affection and attention.

Momo could be as emotionally intelligent and cognitively empathetic as she was, but when it came to Sana, her proudly self-declared high EQ crashed like it was never existed.

These new observations resulted in Momo smiling sheepishly at her phone. "Momoring the bae: Hey what are you up to?” Momo wondered if she liked this too much or she had developed an addiction because she found herself texting Sana literally five minutes after Sana dropped her off at her house after practice every day. And Sana would probably respond although she was still driving. And Momo would send a voice message, scolding Sana for texting and driving, just to receive a voice message from Sana with her amused mellow laugh.

Although they were both in the Honor Program in the same year, their schedules had zero overlap. Sana would complain or sometimes whine about it any chance she got, randomly in the middle of their conversations over dance routines, food, or some annoying teachers, ect.

Honestly, it was probably for the best, Momo believed, for her own sanity. She didn’t think she would be able to gain any drop of knowledge from the already not-so-informative teachers if Sana was sitting within ten feet radius. With those distracting giggles and teasing eyes? No way. Momo knew for sure because Sana made it really hard for Momo during dance practice to stay completely focus. Why did she have to noticeably extra sway her hips while remained eye contact with Momo through the reflection of the mirror like that?

“Shit Momo, what the hell?” Momo blinked after Jihyo’s yelp. Well, you see, Momo, the dance team captain, accidentally stepped on Jihyo’s foot after being a whole damn beat late.

“Sorry buddy. I had a long day. How about we take a break everyone.” Momo bluntly came up with an excuse, internally cussing at herself “ _God damn it, get it together Momo_.” She harshly rolled the sleeves of her shirt up and stomped to the corner, chucking on her water to cool down the profoundly hotness that was spreading like fire throughout her body. Her sudden outrage was because of Momo made an unprecedented mistake, or because of Sana’s playful move. Guess no one knew, not even Momo.

“Momoring, don’t push yourself too hard.” Momo turned around when a silken voice caught her attention. Momo squinted her eyes as a drop of sweat made it way down to her forehead. She couldn’t hold back a reflexive unconvincing smile at Mina who looked at her with genuine and heartfelt concern, handing her a towel.

“Thanks, Mitang.” Momo tried to cover the nervousness boiling under her skin as her lips did the best attempt to momentarily grinning daffily charmingly and daintily with Mina. Besides, well who said Momo’s crush on Mina ever stopped. “Do I look extremely sloppy today or you’re being extra nice, huh?”

“I’m always nice, you just never noticed.” Mina slightly tilted her head down to look at the tip of her sneakers, shaking her head briefly. Momo spotted a thin hidden smile under Mina’s gently blushed cheeks. If Momo wasn’t sure about her feelings for Mina before, she certainly was right now, as her eyes slowly trailed Mina’s slender fingers tucking a strand of hair behind her tiny right ear. In the corner of Momo’s eyes, she caught a glimpse of Sana having a small casual chat with Jihyo. And in a split of a second, Momo reckoned that Sana was looking this way with a disguised aggravation.

“Well, maybe you haven’t been noticing that I’ve been noticing everything about you, Mina.” Momo jokingly and brittlely laughed, swiftly walking back to the center of the practice room to hide her embarrassment about her cheesy comment. “ _Great. Genius. Brilliant. Why the fuck did I say that.”_

It was sweet and fulfilling and it was alarming and discomfort, having confusion regarding her emotions toward the two of her closest friends. Momo knew she would love to take Mina out, there was no doubt. But Momo couldn’t ignore these bewildered flutterings that she had whenever Sana was around. The thing was: Momo never associated herself with someone who caught feelings left and right like this. So Momo sent a text to the person that knew her better than herself, if she didn’t count Sana, right after practice.

“Hirai Momo: Wanna go grab some ice cream? My treat.” The power of free food, Momo silently exclaimed. Because it took Nayeon less than five minutes to be honking outside of her door, gaining Momo a couple of disapproving looks from her parents.

“What’s the deal, cap?” Nayeon didn’t even let Momo stepped the second foot onto the passenger seat, already screaming with excitement and curiosity.

“Where are we going? The diner?” Momo pretended to be annoyed, rolling her eyes and all.

“Where else? So, go ahead and spill the tea. I’m ready.” Nayeon formally straightened her back with her chest puffed out. And if Momo didn’t catch the irritatingly teasing grin on the latter’s face, she would think Nayeon was about to hear her name being announce for The Presidential Citizens Medal.

“Jeez. It’s not anything important.” Momo carefully stated, making sure that she didn’t overhype Nayeon over some stupid hormonal thoughts. “Hypothetically, let’s say you start, hm, liking-ish this one person. And she is the cutest girl that you’ve ever seen. But then there is this other person, who is like a very good friend to you, but then she’s been being extra nice, hm… flirty, I guess, like calling you bae…”

“Momo, who are these lucky girls?” Of course, Nayeon would bluntly interrupt Momo, with eyes widened, almost jumped out of her seat if she wasn’t driving. “Seriously Momo, you’re like the last person that I would ever expect to have a crush on someone. You’re always indifferent whenever we talk about attractive people at school or couple’s drama, and didn’t you say it’s a waste of time dating in high school?”

“Calm your pants, will you? When did I ever say I have a crush on someone? I literally just said hypothetically. Hypothetically, Im Nayeon.” Momo immediately raised her voice annoyingly at Nayeon, didn’t forget to even mimic a facepalm gesture. “ _God”_ , Momo knew Nayeon would overact and assume 20 steps ahead, since the latter dedicated her life watching every single TV show and Kdrama in this entire universe, instead of being helpful for once. Why did she even think of asking Nayeon for advice, honestly.

“Okay, moving on… what about these two girls?” Nayeon softened her voice apologetically as she worried that her mission of getting anything out of this cold-hearted sociopath when it comes to love would fail misery right now right here. Whatever Momo was about to say, it was going be too priceless to have Momo stopped sharing. “ _Damn Momoring, not one but two, you player motherfucker_.” Nayeon held her togue as the unfiltered witticism was about to slip.

“So the first one, let’s call her A, as I mentioned, she is… lovely. She makes you feel like you wanna protect her and that she deserves the world. The second one, B, is really… nice, hm, again a bit flirtatious, and I guess… hot.” Momo choked on her own words, did she just call Minatozaki Sana, the same Minatozaki Sana that Momo always complied with nothing but platonic and unconditional adoration, _hot_. Momo was actually losing her sanity at this point, then.

Nayeon firmly nodded her head, exhibiting extra supportive energy and serious concentration to encourage Momo to continue. “Hm, I guess B is nice and flirtatious, but I feel like she’s like that with everyone though, you know? And they’re both really good friends to me, so I really don’t feel like ruining the friendships...”

“Momo… don’t tell me you’re in love with me!? No fucking way. Which one would I be though, I guess I’m hot, so B?” Nayeon’s pretentious coolness lasted merely two seconds, didn’t even let Momo to finish as soon as the ridiculous idea crossed her mind.

“Oh my god, Im Nayeon. Just shut the fuck up.” Momo deeply frowned, losing every single drop of hope on having her problem solved by her dear and unhelpful friend. This is the second time she had to say Nayeon’s entire name, and they barely drove out of the neighborhood.

To that, Momo swore she could feel the dark grey lines had painted her face as she dramatically slammed her head on Nayeon’s Toyoda Camry’s window. Nayeon, on another hand, felt tears pricking her eyes as she would never be able to learn anything else about this about-to-make-the-headline striking piece of information from Momo anytime soon. At least Momo still paid for her chocolate ice cream and just as quick as it came, her regretful sorrow was long forgotten.

\---

Time simply didn’t stop for Momo to make up her mind. It wasn’t like school, work and dance hadn’t occupied her cramped daily schedule and over-worked fried brain most of the time already. Perhaps she should just stick with her own philosophy of staying away from silly meaningless high school relationship.

Occasionally, when Momo stayed after practice to improve certain choreography, she caught a sight of Mina outside of the practice room watching and giving her an encouraging smile with an adorable thumbs up. And Momo would wave back, beaming to hide her tiredness and sleep deprivation. On the back of her head, she ignored the fact that Mina waited for about half a minute every time, maybe for Momo to take the initiation to walk over and share a conversation. But Momo insisted on focusing on her body movement and the refection of herself instead.

To be clear, Momo wasn’t trying to avoid Mina, or Sana. They still shared small talks over lunch or during practice. And Momo was glad that at least she didn’t make things awkward with Mina after the _incident_ from the other day.

Momo still got drunk on Fridays at Sana’s and sent Sana random shabby texts. And Momo’s disobeyed ratchet heart still jumped uncontrollably and a little bit too consumingly loud enough that she could feel her eardrums throbbing, whenever Sana did her _little obscure game_ , in Momo’s definition, or skinship.

Everything seemed orderly and uneventful and somewhat tedious for the rest of the school year. Momo aced all of her finals to everyone’s envy, especially Nayeon, who pulled three all-nighters in a row to cramp because for her school was nothing more than an _imaginarily constructed institution,_ but her parents would block her credit cards in reality if she didn’t get straight A. To the day, no one can explain how Momo managed to perfectly and successfully achieved everything in academic, extracurricular activities, an a balanced and healthy, actually not so healthy, life outside of school with ease and still looked comely with no sight of weariness.

Everything was fine until it was not, until it was their dance final competition. To be more precise, after the competition itself. The competition was scheduled for the last day of school and they all had to reschedule their exam to an earlier day. The performance went smoothly as Momo expected. They had been working hard and dedicated, especially the past week, staying at the studio until midnight to perfect the five best performances that the coach selected.

Momo found herself grew extremely fondly to her team, and at least she was likable enough that everyone had been showing her nothing but appreciation and respect.

There were a couple of disagreements that she had with Jihyo because Momo always wanted to personally carry out the complicated dance breaks since she didn’t trust anyone but herself when it came to dancing. She ended up having to realize that they were a team and as a team member she should operate in a way that benefited everyone.

JYP High placed at 3rd, and Momo was actually content with the results. It was the best ranking that the school had in 15 years, and someone even claimed that it was all thanks to _the dancer that was sent from the gods_ , Hirai Momo.

Momo humbly laughed it off when Mina smiled at her gummily. “I’m proud of you, Momoring.”

“I’m proud of YOU, Mitang.” It seemed like every time they had a conversation, Momo would lose all her words in both native and second language, thus couldn’t come up with anything compelling, or literally anything, besides reciprocation of Mina’s sentences. Or they would get interrupted intentionally or unintentionally mostly by Im Nayeon. Who else? 

“Hey cap, they got jokbal and fried chicken!” Momo had to cover her ears painfully after Nayeon’s life-threatening loud scream.

Momo amiably signaled Mina to go ahead over to the celebrating table that the parents had prepare for them with food as her eyes scanned the place to locate the familiar blonde hair, just to caught Sana already chewing on a chicken wing happily with her eyes scrunched up like two brightly lit crescent moons. Momo softly chuckled at the way Sana aggressively waving at her with one hand covered in sauce and a jokbal on the other hand.

“Momo, you should see your silly face. You two are smitten as hell.” Jihyo nudged Momo’s ribs, slyly teased, gaining a careless glare from Momo.

The dance team eventually went on the bus to return to JYP High as a tradition and to return their outfits. The ride was only 30 minutes long and apparently the exhaustion caught up to everyone. When Momo looked up from her mom’s message congratulating her since she couldn’t be there earlier, everyone except Momo was already deep in their naps, leaving the bus enjoyably quiet and peaceful, in contrast to their usual chaotic rowdy environment.

Before Momo knew, a couple strands of blonde hair made themselves pronounced by tickling her nape as their owner comfortably shifted to snug closer into the crook of Momo’s neck. And Momo could feel every miniature muscle under her skin, penetrated by the foreign warm air, tightened with Sana’s every steady breath. Momo could clearly imagine the tiny pumps elevated on her skin, subconsciously squeezed both of her hands as she felt they suddenly went cold.

Being a nerd as Momo always was, she believed her limbs was losing temperature due to the rush of blood going to her heart as it was beating rapidly in her chest that there were droplets of sweet started forming at the follicles of her dark long hair. Momo’s habitually eyed Sana’s partially visible side profile, her long impeccable lashes, her aristocratic straight-edged nose, her rosy slightly-parted lips. And Momo wished she could taste those two flower’s petals.

As a person of action, Momo examined the bus, checking if anyone was looking (no one was), just to slowly leaned in and abruptly suspended the action one third of the way, eyes never stopped staring at the attractive crimson targets. “ _Momo, what are you even thinking.”_ She abortively straightened her posture, blatantly swallowed a lump in her throat, pressed her lips into a thin line to suppress a worried heavy sign.

Momo ended up channeling her attention to the window to forget the dryness in her mouth and the maladjusted state of her mind. What Momo missed, though, was an instinctive but perhaps unmistakably dejected pairs of eyes from two seats behind on the other side of bus, having witnessed the entire episode of Momo’s imprudent movements.

As Momo was walking to the parking lot after saying thoughtless good-byes to the team, where her parents would pick her up, it finally hit Momo that today was the last day before summer. She wouldn’t be able to see the people who occupied her entire day as often anymore.

Momo’s faint melancholy didn’t bother her long since a glowing face with a dazzling grin was coming her way, resulting in the pronounced dimples in her cheeks as she was watching Sana’s bouncy steps.

And maybe it was too scenically poetic with the sun descending behind the latter, casting golden rays on Sana’s photogenic frame. Maybe Momo thought she saw Aphrodite herself in just plain jeans and t-shirt as she watched Sana cheerfully hoping closer with her arms gleefully swinging. Maybe school was finally over, and Momo’s stranded mind could finally be free of stress and able to listen to the whispers from her heart.

That Momo convinced herself she could endure any pain as long as she see Sana happiness with _that_ cutely bright grin. That Momo convinced herself all these colorful fireworks in her chest giving her light headaches only meant one thing. That Momo convinced herself everything in her life could be so fatally simple and precipitated into this moment.

It was chaotic and consuming. It was frightening and burning. (But) It was wholesome and reassuring. So Momo, wearing only a smile, raised her thumb to wipe a tiny red mark at the corner of Sana’s lower lip, valiant and bold, delicately put her thumb to her mouth. Momo, emerging in her own refection in Sana’s wide astonished eyes, carelessly and arrogantly shrugged. “I don’t really like spicy, but this sauce doesn’t taste too bad.”

_Revenge is sweet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how I feel about this chapter, tbh. I apologize if it sucks. I was distracted and well-fed by all the SaMo contents lately.  
> More&More = SaMo era.


	4. Candies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Momo best girl.

Chapter 4

“Revenge is Always Sweet, it's the Aftertaste that's Bitter.” ― Joshua Caleb

Momo is such a forgetful person, maybe it’s because she lives in her mind way too much that reality sometimes becomes blurry and irrelevant. Thus, it’s unexplainable how Momo subconsciously deeply engraved in her brain the way Sana was so stunned that she couldn’t hide a loud gasp and trembling lips after Momo indirectly tasted the Korean spicy chicken sauce from the small corner of her mouth where her lips meet.

Five years later, Momo remembered that moment vividly. Seven years later, Momo still remembers that moment vividly. Maybe, ten years later Momo will still remember that moment vividly. And sometimes when Momo really thinks about it, she wishes that she can remember a better memory because they shared so many priceless and precious moments together. Yet her brain decided that this moment was worth tugging in a memory draw, a draw that open too eagerly and readily.

(Sana’s shiny blonde strands sparkled in the golden hour, unintentionally and cunningly covering her forehead and parts of her large hazel eyes. The rile burning on the skin of Momo’s forearms from the tiredly setting afternoon sunrays. The folk song that was composed solely by the friction of the cars passing by and the roadbed and the trees branches airily dancing in the not-so-breezy winds. The smell of Momo’s own sweat mixed with Gucci Guilty (pour femme) that she had on today. A scent somewhere in between sheer, floral-oriental and peppery, vanilla-saline.)

Though, Momo doesn’t think Sana remembers.

\---

A confined Sana tactlessly gulped, a rush of heat traveled to her cheeks, all thanks to Momo’ abrupt coquette. As someone who would probably take this opportunity to be all smug, Sana was being oddly quiet. Perhaps it wasn’t really, if not at all, Momo-like to commit such a teasing action. Sana couldn’t voluntarily move a muscle to safe her face. Instead, her mind was busy flashing back to a Friday afterschool. The day that Momo finished her homework in class and came over to the Minatozaki’s earlier than usual as they both found themselves lazily laying on Sana’s bed, facing each other, though Momo was distractedly scrolling through her Instagram feed.

“Momoring, do you believe in soulmates?” Sana propped herself up with one arm, eyes carefully studying Momo’s sun-bathed attractive figure.

“You already know the answer, Satang.” Momo fingers paused for half a second, continued to type a comment on Nayeon’s new post, laughing softly. On the back of Momo’s head, she unmistakably recalled that she and Sana had this conversation several times before.

Yes, Sana always believed that one day she’d find her soulmate. And that when she does, it will be one of the happiest days of her life. And to support her statement, she would tell Momo that she _did her research_ from the Internet and the famous and cliché Plato’s theory that everyone probably heard at least once if not many times before, which said (in Sana's voice): _“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.”_ And Momo would reply thoughtfully and sincerely that there was no scientific proof for the theory, but there was also no scientific proof for any opposing theory. And if anything, she can’t wait to meet whoever Sana thinks it’s her soulmate. And that would probably be one of the happiest days of her life as well. Sana’s emotions tend to reflect on Momo.

But this time, Sana didn’t say anything, didn’t try to convince Momo, didn’t verbally daydream about her soulmate. The 15 seconds of silence that somewhat felt like an hour did catch Momo’s attention. A taken aback Momo curiously look up from her phone, just to find Sana eyes were already closed, her lashes was gently quivering, her breath was deep and steady.

When Momo started to suspect that Sana perhaps felt asleep that she realized the latter’s lips was hesitantly forming a pout as if she was aware of Momo’s obtrusive stare. The more Momo observed the blonde’s face, the more Momo was drowning into her mesmerizing comeliness, the more Momo noticed a drop of expectance on Sana’s face. But all Momo did was propped herself up in one arm, leveling with Sana and allowing herself to silently admire one of the angels’ best works in front of her. It felt like time had stopped, and Momo enjoyed the lull serenity.

There was one thing that none of them knew, that both of them shared a similar thought. That Momo had to physically restrained herself from leaning in. That Momo gathered all of her courage just to deduce that the two feet gap between them was hopelessly too far away. That Sana valued the friendship more than her impulsive dreadful desire to grab Momo’s face. That Sana settled for something more passive, more safe, more pitiful, and less Sana-like.

Something had shifted on that Friday, the Friday that wasn’t like any other Fridays. And Sana could feel the shift in her heart and in the air. And Sana thought of that Friday when Momo’s thumb trailed from her lower lip toward her chin today.

\---

Momo kept her promise that they were going to hang out over the summer, in fact, way earlier that she anticipated. Well, Momo didn’t seem like someone who could ever say no to those puppy eyes. Not to mention the way Sana almost cried when Momo’s parents’ car appeared in the parking lot on that day.

Momo found herself in front of the Minatozaki’s that same evening with five bags of chips (four bags of Cheetos Puffs for Momo and one bag of Cheetos Flaming Hot Crunchy for Sana) and a six pack of Asahi. It wasn’t easy to find Asahi, one of the two brands of beer that she would ever touch besides Kirin. Although none of them was necessarily a beer drinker, it would a shame to not share it with her best friend, especially when the beer was originated from Osaka, Sana’s hometown. They had a promise to go visit Osaka after graduation and get drunk at Asahi Beer Suita Kōjō, Asahi’s factory; they offered unlimited sampling there.

\---

Momo’s drinking habit took a long long circle. Now, when she’s passed legal age, she would only drink whiskey, preferably Crown Royal on rock, and/or the two Japanese beers – Asahi and Kirin. “Sapporo is too mainstream.” Never misses Nayeon’s judgmental narrow eyes. “What you gotta be so pretentious for?” And Momo, still feels nauseous thinking about the amount of cheap vodka that she consumed in her first year of college at those frat parties, would shrug her shoulders and take another sip.

A few days ago, Momo almost did a celebratory back flip in the middle of the spirit aisle and immediately dialed Sana when she caught a sight of the familiar bottles as she was trolling through a local grocery store with Mrs. Hirai. Being a high schooler meant that Momo had to smile all gummy and apologetically at her mother before they got to the check out and watch her mother purchasing the fermented malted barley from afar, expecting her mother to glare at her when she said she was going to bring them over to Sana’s. Though Mrs. Hirai didn’t say anything as she knew nothing could stop Momo. It wasn’t like Momo wouldn’t go bother her cousin later if she couldn’t get the bottles now.

One fun fact, Momo’s parents weren’t against Momo’s drinking. If anything, they would drink with her at dinner or encourage Momo to have a glass of red wine every day to _prevent heart disease_ , their words not hers.

Momo was a professional dancer in Japan, so her relations or acquaintanceships with teenage celebrities explains, but not justifies, the fact that she sometimes spent her weekend at an underground club in Kyoto. Not only that the club didn’t ID, it also familiarized Momo with all of her _bad_ habits. Remember, Momo was a smart kid. She was responsible enough to didn’t make any decision which could potentially lead to regrets. Except a one time she was trying to stop a fight and fell into a glass table, resulting in long deep scar on her left thigh. Well, was she really a smart kid?

And people at the club, _her friends_ , called her a _tank_ , because it would take her perhaps more than 20 shots to knock her out. It wasn’t like Momo hadn’t tried. (She did.) Momo loved that title until she didn’t because she always ended up taking all the shots for her friends who were either flat-faced on the floor or could barely stand for their own good.

Momo kept her drinking habit (and maybe some activities involving not-dance-related popping and organic-herbs inhaling) and let go of the smoking one ever since she became friends with Sana. “Momo, my grandma was a smoker, and she died when I was 12. Also, you smell like shit.” Momo untroubledly threw her pack of Marlboro away.

Momo usually told Sana about her history during their late-night dance practice or early-morning cardio at the school gym, and the latter thought Momo could write a book from her journey. “What? You did what? Momoring!” Sana would stutter and yelp and giggle every time Momo revealed another chemically substance that she had put in her system during those wild nights back in Kyoto. Maybe that was why Momo never wanted to play never have I ever, she would lose not even halfway through the round. 

And Momo hated running, still does, but Sana loved it and Momo loved filling the blocks in her schedule with Sana. And Momo would friskily smirk. And Sana would sarcastically remark “Don’t you think it’s ironic that you are so good at chemistry, yet so stupid to fuck yourself up with the chemical that you know dearly.”

And there were nights, when sleep didn’t come despite her drained and consumed muscle fibers, Momo really believed that she has a tendency, a tendency of getting attracted and giving in to harmful things although she knows _dearly_ that they would hurt eventually.

\---

Each of them was on their second bottle that Sana, noticing the way Momo blankly stared at the kitchen counter indicating that she had given up on listening, suggested they should watch some Netflix. “Hey, how about we go downstairs. And yes, I know you stopped paying attending at least seven minutes ago.” Sana jumped off the high stool. “Don’t forget the snacks, Momo.” It wasn’t even a surprise when Momo first learned that the Minatozaki has a home theater. And Momo, Mina, and Nayeon often went over on Sunday for movie nights.

“Okay, let’s see, why don’t we watch something scary.” Momo comfortably laying on the cloudlike cushion with her arms folded under her head, on the sofa that was two times bigger than her twin sized bed at home, with the blonde snuggly right next to her.

“You know I don’t even like scary movies.” Sana pouted cheekily, hoping her aegyo would work as usual. Except it didn’t

“No, you do. You just don’t want to watch it by yourself. But since I’m here, we can watch it together.” And that’s all Momo needed to convince Sana to click into the rectangular poster for the first suggestion under the horror/thriller tab. It was either the Conjuring or Insidious. To be honest, it doesn’t really matter because they perhaps watched only the first three minutes of the movie.

It all started when Momo didn’t understand a vocabulary that a character just said, turning her entire body 45 degree to whisper the question to Sana. Sana, turning her body 45 degree, facing Momo, and whispered the answer against Momo’s lips.

And it took them five seconds to debate (intrapersonally) within themselves and (interpersonally) with each other, bashfully staring into the other’s eyes. And all Momo could hear was rapid heartbeats, the way their hearts easily syncing into one beat. And it was like a dream once Momo, trusting little but wanting to trust more, crashed her lips with Sana’s.

Sometimes, Momo can’t really tell if it actually happened or it was a product of her hallucination. Because Sana insisted that they were making out for at least three hours following their first kiss and Momo was the one that leaned in. And Momo swears she still doesn’t recall any of that. What Momo remembers, though, are not entirely romantic.

Momo doesn’t remember the taste of Sana’s lips. Maybe it tasted like hot Cheetos or Asahi or both. She remembers Sana was an enthusiastic biter, who bit and pressed only on Momo’s top lip that it tingled after. Momo doesn’t remember the softness and warmth of Sana’s skin when Momo’s hand instinctively went under her shirt, in fact, “ _what was the color of the shirt Sana was wearing._ ” She remembers Sana hastily pulled on her shirt and ruggedly landed on top of Momo. And at that, Momo flinched a little bit. Momo doesn’t remembers Sana’s tiny moans every time Momo’s palm instinctively made a contact with her bra. She remembers the voice in her head desperately telling her to stop because this would ruin so many things, their friendship, her carefree single life, her schooling. (Momo was never be able to stop.) Momo remembers she was busy thinking about the dramatic and tearful breakup with her ex from Japan more than two years ago. And honestly Momo couldn’t deny that she was intimidated by the commitment and getting her heart broken again and wasting her time on a not-going-to-last high school relationship and never getting to be friends with Sana again after an impulsive kiss.

Their first kiss was fragmented and chaotic, and for both of them, memorable, though their memory of the event were nothing alike. But it was easy, falling in love with Sana. “ _Yea?_ ” It was the simplicity that made it an inescapable truth. Because above everything, Momo remembers the yearning of her heart although they were being as close as they physically could. And their figures fit perfectly like two pieces of puzzle. And she didn’t think she would be able to walk the earth without kissing Sana anymore.

It was a different kind of drug because Momo could easily quit, you name it, alcohol, nicotine, marijuana, LSD, cocaine, schrooms, molly..

But the worst and most addicting one she had was, you name it, Minatozaki Sana's kiss.

It's fucking cliché but it's true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK how some of y'all do it but this lowkey takes forever. And I'll try to stop rambling. (I haven't written anything but scientific papers for the past 3 yrs.)


	5. Coffee

"But you don't ask for no diamond rings.

No delicate string of pearls.

That's why I wrote this song to sing

My beautiful girl.” - City and Colour

“Momoring, why don’t you like watermelon?” Mina distractingly asks Momo, who’s intensively and carefully avoiding the above-mentioned red cubes and any of the other pieces that potentially touched them on the fruit plate.

“Not gonna lie, I don’t even know. It’s like you tried it once, it wasn’t good, you tried it again, it still wasn’t good, and you just decided to never try it again.” Momo, who is about to have a blackberry, unconsciously stops midway, eyes trailing a familiar but also not familiar figure in the back yard, giggling, skipping all over the neatly mowed lawn of the Im family.

And as Mina eyes’ follow Momo’s, she cannot hold back a somber sign. Mina clandestinely checks if Momo noticed and whispers even more silently than her usual quiet voice “You sure we’re still talking about watermelon?”

Momo gulps, bites the inside of her mouth, hiding the internalized self-hate that she has been trying, really does trying, to get rid off for the past three years.

\---

It didn’t make sense to Momo that they were kissing for three hours and things didn’t escalate to something more exciting, more intriguing, more intimate, more _gossip worthy,_ based on a comment of Im Nayeon after Momo confirmed the incident.

Also, who the hell kisses for three hours straight. Momo had to google to see the Guinness World Record of the longest kiss, which lasted more than 58 hours, not that it matters, and ran into weird Youtube videos of couples trying to kiss for as long as they can, most of them lasted five to 15 minutes. _“And you telling me Satang and I did this for 3 hours?”_ Momo pinched the bridge of her nose.

When Momo recalled the incident some days later in the shower, she swore the kiss lasted for 20 minutes, max. Maybe Momo dosed off, “ _but like… how?”_ Maybe the buzzing voices in her head were too loud. Thoughts overlaying thoughts that they all became white noises. Maybe the beating in the cavity of her chest was too blaring. Too pronounced. And too hysteric. And Momo clearly heard, still can hear, the distinct echo, something sounded like the beat of her favorite song at the time, The Girl by City and Color. _One, two, one, two, three, four._

But the after _taste_ of the kiss was… good and Momo felt… good. (She didn’t recall feeling like this with any of the exes.)

After their lips parted, through Sana’s blurry readjusting-to-the-blue-light-from-the-tv vision, all she could see was Momo’s arrogant smile. It was irritating but it was attractive. And well, Sana almost failed to resist the gravitation of Momo’s semi-thin rosy lips. They sent Sana’s mind into a sensual state of intoxication, and her hands almost reached for Momo’s face again. Almost, because then Momo smacked her lips loudly with pride and pleasure, to her own embarrassment later and to Sana’s embarrassment now.

“Momoring…” Sana awkwardly blurted, perplexingly rolled off Momo’s body. Sana never realized how well-built Momo’s body was; she always associated Momo with something _soft_ , Momo’s soft hands, Momo’s soft hair, Momo’s soft smell, Momo’s soft soul. “That was… hm, you tasted…” Sana tried to come up with a joke to distract Momo from staring at her very obvious redden cheeks. That didn’t go so well, considering the fact that Sana didn’t have to try this hard and desperately since Momo was already busy looking at the phone screen.

“Oh shit!” Momo’s face was illuminated with a dusky blue hue, and Sana could easily catch _le_ _coup d'oeil_ of a dreadful and terrified Momo. For a moment, Sana thought it was her that caused Momo’s distress, wondering if she was being too blunt, too coarse, or simply too… excited.

Momo thumb swiped the tab at the bottom of the screen tremblingly, as a result of an incoming phone call from _Nayeon unnie_. Or as a result of the kiss’s after effect (?) “Moshi moshi. Ah I mean hi. Yes. Yes. I’m very sorry. Unnie ah, I said I’m sorry. No, I was, I mean we were just… you know watching a movie. Umm… Satang, what was the name of the movie? Yea. Something scary, Yea sure. I’ll be right outside. Give me two minutes.” Momo didn’t realize her voice was all croaked and the stuttering was that uncontrollable.

It totally slipped Momo’s mind that Nayeon had texted her earlier to hang out later tonight. At 9pm to be precise. It should have worked out just fine since she only planned on being at the Minatozaki’s for at most three hours. She didn’t plan on losing track of time. She didn’t plan on the kiss. Well no one did plan on the kiss.

The large “21:22” figure on Momo’s lock screen literally buried her into guilt. And the 22 minutes behind was enough to catalyze Momo’s following reactions. Momo jumped to the floor almost tripped over her own feet, hastily rebuttoned her loose white button-down shirt with one hand (Sana just realized she somehow undressed Momo's top half) and swiftly swung her backpack over her shoulder by the other hand.

Momo hated being late. Nayeon said it’s a Japanese thing. Sana would roll her eyes. But Momo pondered that Nayeon had a point. She was taught since little that being five minutes early is on time and being on time is late, and Momo always arrived at least three minutes earlier. She _ain’t no nerd_. (Really?) Sana was always at least three minutes late. _“Is it a Japanese thing to make out with your best friend, too?”_ As the thought crossed her mind, Momo had a feeling that Nayeon would soon say something similar. Her prediction was _à point_.

Momo hurriedly sped out of Sana’s home theater’s door frame. As she was calculating which one of the four heavy and well-decorated doors of this mansion should she use to save the most time “ _Nayeon usually parks close to the back one,”_ that Momo caught Sana’s gaze. The confusion and somber and fright written on the blonde’s face made Momo’s stomach turned. And before she realized, she was already heading back to the couch, gently placing a chaste kiss on Sana’s forehead. “Just text me.” No reply. Momo hesitated and tugged a strand of hair behind Sana’s ear and settled for another quick kiss, this time on Sana’s suddenly parched lips. “Nayeon is waiting for me outside _.”_ Still no reply. “ _Okay let’s deal with this later.”_ To that Momo sprinted out to Nayeon’s Camry in the speed that put Usain Bolt to shame.

Since the second Momo left the Minatozaki’s until the next morning, Momo gave the situation zero thought. Zero. Nayeon drove them to a lake. They emerged themselves into nature (not so much), in silly dark twisted jokes, in clouds of smoke that fogged Momo’s vision. And she didn’t see her phone buzzling with text messages in the side pocket of her backpack in the back seat.

\---

Momo was a terrible person now that she thinks about it. “ _A fucking insensitive jackass indeed. God damn_!” It must be the karma. _What goes around comes around_. Precisely, Nayeon was right the whole time for calling Momo _cold-hearted_. Was that why her hands are warm maybe because all the heat had left her heart. Momo doesn’t know if her hands were warm on the one special night when they had their first non-platonic kiss, though.

\---

Momo couldn’t move. The sleep paralysis took over. Momo heard her voice calling for help, saw her feet running in darkness, felt a pressure pressing on her chest and straggling her throat. Although sleep paralysis wasn’t a stranger to Momo, she couldn’t help but gasped in horror once she regained control of her body, letting out a following tiny groan and wiping the sweats accumulated on her forehead and jawline. A wave of relief washed through the Japanese as she caught a glimpse of the familiar sunlight sweeping on the ground and walls of her bedroom through the forgot-to-be-closed window and a glimpse of the _childish_ Gudetama poster, which initially showered Momo with a heartfelt wave, followed with an appalling but somewhat sweet realization that it was a gift from a particular blonde.

She scrambled the bed to find her phone, attempting to text Nayeon since she didn’t have any idea of how the hell she got home. In fact, she couldn’t figure out where were these throbbing headaches coming from. She knew it wasn’t the Asahi that she drank with Sana. Asahi’s after mornings were mostly mellow. “ _Beer is like water with carbs anyway.”_ It could be one single hit of Nayeon’s cigarette. Or the meticulously rolled joint because it was one of Nayeon’s _proudest works of art_. Or the Tesla (a high-end ecstasy). But did she even pop the pill. Momo usually stayed away from the “up” drugs, or classified stimulants, especially when her mood was quite airy.

“Hirai Momo: you home, bud?”

“Nayeon unnie: Momo, I’m downstairs.”

“Hirai Momo: alright, coming.” Momo conscientiously listened to the sound of her coffee maker and let her lungs filled with her favorite smell of the freshly pressed caffeinated substance. A wearied young brunette lazily ruffled her hair, changed into a fresh t-shirt, mumbling a complaint on why didn’t Nayeon help her get out of the dirty clothes last night.

Nayeon entered the bathroom while Momo was brushing her teeth, squinting at the sluggish and sleep-drowned Japanese. “Okay, now that we’re both sobber, let’s talk about you and Sana.”

Momo’s ocular muscle instinctively twitched, slowly watching Nayeon from the corners of her eyes as the older rested her back on the wall behind, folding her arms, remaining the steady eye contact with Momo. And Momo swallowed an attempting-to-brush-the-matter-off phony laugh since she couldn’t detect any usual whimsy from the latter. “I don’t know what you mean.” Momo surveyed, rapidly digging through her fuzzy memory from yesterday, trying to pinpoint when her tongue accidentally slipped.

“She called you 30 times, Momo. It fucking woke me up from my already shitty sleep.”

“Wait, my phone was on silent.” Momo splashed some water on her face, hoping to knock her brain out of its drowsy state to deal with Nayeon’s inescapable interrogation.

“No, it was on vibrate mode. And my fried as fuck brain could not stand that annoying buzz not even for 30 seconds, and she called for 27 minutes straight.” Momo chuckled at the sight of a sullen Nayeon, hiding the deep concern for Sana’s seemingly panic condition, still figuring out what could be the reasons.

“ _Besides the make out session, we didn’t do anything else. Why did she call? Satang never called this many times before… Did she get into trouble or something?”_ Momo averted her gaze from Nayeon, staring at the dark circles under her eyes instead. “You slept here last night, unnie?”

“Uh huh, didn’t you carry me? I don’t even remember driving us back. Apparently, I woke up from your girlfriend’s phone calls and found myself on your bed.”

“Um… did we… you know…” Momo devilishly smirked suggestively, teasingly cocked one of her eyebrows, intentionally ignored the word _girlfriend_.

“No dude, what the hell.” Momo busted out in laughter after Nayeon violently slapped her shoulder with that disgusted expression on her face. “And if you think you can distract me out of this conversation about Sana, not today Satan.” Nayeon exhaled with an emphasized pfft.

“Okay chill, Satang and I not going out if you’re wondering. I probably forgot something at her place.” Momo tried to minimize the eye contact. Although Momo could be pretty smooth at lying, she was not really fond of the idea of lying to her best friend, not when it was still early in the morning and her consciousness was still half asleep. Technically, Momo might have kept some details from Nayeon but she didn’t lie, though. She and the blonde were, in fact, not going out. And just like that, Momo flinched at the sudden flood of memory from their latest movie night. _“Crap, I did tell her to text me, didn’t I. No wonder… but again, Satang doesn’t call like that (30+ times in the early morning).”_ Momo intrinsically sulked, mentally considering the emotional damage that she might have cause, knowing Sana, who often, though unobservably, let feelings cloud her judgement, exposing the insecurity that only Momo could identify.

A slight and almost-invisible change on Momo’s face didn’t escape Nayeon’s scrutiny. Something in between guilty and troubled. Nayeon, who pretended to be more serious than she actually was, pressed her lips tightly together, perhaps also to contain a pleased chuckle from the excitement of the soon-to-be-revealed tea. “Momo, I scrolled through the messages she sent you. Something about a kiss, eh? Also, your hair was hella wack. You care too much about your damn appearance to show up in my car with those tangles. And dude, don’t you think your shirt being crumpled at two specific spots in front of your chest was obvious enough. Yes, the Burberry button up shirt that you hand-wash and iron at least five times before you put it on.” Nayeon shook her head disapprovingly while checking her newly manicured nails, restraining herself from pointing out the obvious fact that Momo was subtly studying the shirt in question, which was carelessly thrown in the corner of the bathroom a couple minutes ago, as they spoke. (Momo was going through her “designer over-obsessive” phase.)

Momo, who wasn’t going to give in to a cheeky Nayeon, scrunched her nose at the latter’s victorious smirk and shrugged. “Okay okay… we kissed but it doesn’t mean anything.” Momo paused, _“does it?”_ (It definitely seemed like it meant something.) “Anyway, we had some drinks before.”

“Who are you kidding? Don’t tell me you got drunk from fucking Asahi. You’re no lightweight.” Nayeon trailed behind Momo, who was heading to the bed side table.

“I didn’t say I was drunk. Maybe tipsy. Who knows, we had a long day yesterday, didn’t we? I was tired, my tolerance wasn’t on its A-game. I literally passed out from nicotine and that never happened before.” Momo slightly frowned at a missing sight of a rose gold object, wondering where her iPhone went.

“Bullsh…” Nayeon was playfully pulled Momo’s phone out from her back pocket, distractedly remarked as she, of course, didn’t buy an of the excuses Momo just came up with.

“C’mon, what else you want me to say? You can’t force your words in my mouth to feed your drama-thirsty imagination. Besides, it’s only 9am in the morning for fucksake.” Momo reached for her phone on Nayeon’s hand, almost fainted from the “53 text messages and 35 missing calls” on the screen.

“Momoring the bae: Sana you ok? Sorry my phone died.” Momo shakily sent a reply, exhaled through tight jaw and cheeks, couldn’t help a wince from an immediate reply.

“Sha sha sha: Can I call you?” Momo glanced at Nayeon and pressed the call button.

“What’s up, Satang? Um, yes my phone died, and you know how I sometimes forget about my phone.” Well no one asked Momo to explain. And she signaled with her chin, asking Nayeon to leave, to which the latter tauntingly mouthed a firm _no._ “Uh huh. And um… is everything okay, though?” Momo’s habit of pinching her nose’s bridge became excessive, evidently a pink mark appeared where her brows meet. If Nayeon didn’t want to leave, then Momo would then. She went downstairs to the kitchen, lifted her shoulder, pressing the phone to her ears while grabbing a mug and filled it with the still-tepid coffee. “Yes, you wanna meet me at the coffee house in… let’s say, an hour?” Another deep sign left Momo as she was hanging up. The faint cloud of coffee vapor reached her nose, failed to lighten her mood for the first time.

“Breakfast date huh? Cute.” Momo deadpanned at Nayeon’s never-ending curiosity and harassment.

“If you need to use the shower, you better hurry. I have to get ready and be dropped off in… 58 minutes and 46 seconds.” Momo checked her silver Blancpain watch.

Nayeon pinched Momo’s cheek and giggled at the crease on Momo’s forehead. “Kawaii ah.”

“I’m so done with you.” Nayeon’s broken quizzical Japanese really challenged Momo’s limit there.

\---

The warm sun light embraced Momo as she sat down on one of the outside tables of the coffee house. The only coffee shop in this town. (Yes, there wasn’t any Starbucks. Anti-capitalism at is finest.) It used to have a name. And don’t expect Momo to remember. Something like the roastery-ish, but everyone just called it _the coffee house_. The brunette gently crocked her head upward, overhearing a conversation from the table to the left. Momo recognized these kids, they went to JYP High, and she nodded at them acknowledging as one of the girls waved at her.

The nearly agitated Momo thumbed through the book that she brought to keep her mind from racing like a deer in the headlights, wearing a hidden uneasy expression. She checked her watch again, “ _four minutes and 18 seconds late_ ,” and crossed her legs impatiently.

And it was like her senses had this magical power to detect Sana’s presence within a perhaps 20 feet radius, Momo breath caught in her throat at a sight of a fellow blonde at the parking lot. The latter was busy grabbing her new Christian Dior bag and locking her new pastel purple Porsche. Momo wondered what happened to the matte black Infiniti, hazily recalling Sana’s whine about the not-strong-enough exterior body of Japanese cars and how she rather drives a European car to be safe.

Yes, Momo was financial comfortable and yes Momo was a snob, she admitted, but Sana was a snob **snob**. Plus, the Minatozaki owns most of the real estates in the Midwest, an additional car into her collection for Sana was like an additional perfume bottle for Momo. And Momo did try the arrived-two-days-ago Baccarat Rouge 540 Maison Francis Kurkdjian on today.

Perhaps to respond to Momo’s small recollection, Sana chuckled: “Baccarat Rouge huh? I like the Lumiére Noire more.”

“I know. I do, too.” Momo fluffily smized. It was comforting, that Sana knew Momo and Momo knew Sana like the back of their hands. And the awkwardness and tension had diffused into the morning breeze. “I got you a strawberry smoothie.” Momo pushed a plastic cup to the opposite side. Sana locked eyes with Momo with a look on her face, a tender but foreign look. “What? You don’t like strawberry smoothie anymore or do I have to pull a chair for you, too?” Momo tilted her head jokingly.

Sana chortled amusingly, itchily shifted on her feet, reluctantly sat down. And Momo’s heart softened.

And it wasn’t the perfectly made iced americano. Or wasn’t the newly baked almond croissant. Or, though expectedly and reasonably, wasn’t the amiable beauty in front of her. And maybe Momo already mentioned it, but Sana’s perfect resplendence really put other people into shame, including a self-appearance-obsessed Momo. Momo couldn’t put her fingers on any specific reason.

Momo plainly just got caught up in the moment and blurted out “Satang, I think we should give it a try.”

“Momoring, are you asking me out?” Sana jitterily responded in Japanese, didn’t recognize her unusual husky just-woke-up voice or the Kansai-ben.

Momo took a sip of the bitter-sweet drink, enjoying the overpowering scent of Sana’s shampoo dominating her olfactory nerve and Sana’s pair of disbelieved glistened eyes, twinkling in the milky light.

Sana took Momo’s gummy smile as a rhetorical confirmation.

The two, physical vibrated from the internal overflowing happiness, painted the scene with such beautiful, subtle gestures. It was fleshed out, complex. And it was real.

That year, on the first day of summer, Momo reached over the wooden table, intertwining her hands with Sana, carrying a promise that none of them knew whether they’d be able to carry for the rest of their lives.

But who cared.

Because here and now, Momo had Sana. And Sana had Momo. And it was enough. It really was.


End file.
